An Illicit Affair
by carolinagirl919
Summary: During a vulnerable point of her marriage, Joss Carter made a choice to have a one-night stand with a man she'd thought she would never see again. Now that she and her husband Paul are trying to repair their marriage, she doesn't think about the tall, handsome, blue-eyed stranger she met that night... until that stranger and his wife move into the house next door. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

"You're making something out of nothing, Lionel," Joss responded dismissively.

Fusco couldn't deny that, but there was clearly something going on. He could see it in the way they stood so close together, the way they didn't look at each other, as if knowing one look at the other would give them away. He knew all this because he had been there before, but he'd been the one who was left holding the bag. In hindsight, he had seen the very same thing right before his wife left him for another man.

Joss was there for him during the aftermath, during the divorce, and was there to help him pick himself up after many pity parties of one where he drowned his sorrows. She knew what he went through, how much it had hurt and how it had torn his family apart. She was better than this.

He looked into her dark brown eyes and knew that for now she spoke the truth. _For now_. But how much longer could they keep up this charade? How much longer before they gave in to those feelings and forgot about everything that made them who they were, their honor, their morals, and their self-respect?

"An affair ain't no easy thing," he continued. "It can destroy everyone around you, including yourself. You need to think about and wonder if it's worth it. And so does John."

She shook her head a little too swiftly, her denial a little too strong. "There's nothing going on. I love Paul. John loves Jessica. We're both happily married and _you_ need to mind your own business." She stood up from the park bench and rubbed her hands down the front of her pants, avoiding further eye contact.

Fusco stood up as well, holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. He hoped he was able to get through to her, but no one ever labeled him as a moral compass. "Okay. I get it. I'll keep my mouth shut. But don't think that it's going to go away anytime soon. It's only going to get worse. Whatever it is you two got going, nip it in the bud," he warned. He tossed the styrofoam cup of now cold coffee into a nearby trash can and walked away, leaving Joss behind to think about what he'd said.

She began walking in the opposite direction towards the north exit of the park. She felt the vibration of her phone and heard the ring of a bell, alerting her of a new text. Taking it out of her pocket, she unlocked the phone to read the message:

_**Waldorf Astoria  
>Room 1215<strong>_

She didn't have to do this. It was only supposed to be a one-time deal, a one-night stand with a stranger she thought she'd never see again. She and Paul were working things out now; they'd been going to counseling and even started a weekly date night to get their spark back. Paul was truly making an effort to change for the better and be the man she married seventeen years ago. But if she was honest with herself, she'd admit that all the counseling and date nights they sat through wasn't enough. It couldn't quell the fire inside her.

Every stolen look, every subtle brush of his hand against hers, every text message, every late night meeting in the park were they'd meet and just talk for hours until nearly dawn... Every time she saw him, he stole a piece of her heart and she couldn't stop it if she tried. Every heated gaze sparked a flame inside her that she had never felt with Paul in all their years of being together.

She took another look at the text:

_**Waldorf Astoria  
>Room 1215<strong>_

They hadn't slept together since the first night they met. They'd danced around it, never truly acknowledging it after the first confrontation, but they were never intimate again. They both continued to lie to themselves about how it was just once and that they'd moved on. But now... now he'd made the next move.

He'd told her that he wanted her, that he couldn't stop thinking about her. His marriage with Jessica had also been strained, even more so now than it ever had. He'd said that he hadn't touched Jessica in over a month and he hadn't wanted to, tired of imagining being inside Joss instead of being with his wife.

His wife.

He was married. They both were.

What was she thinking? The first time was the only time and it _wasn't_ a mistake. They'd both been very aware of the choice they'd made and had fully understood what they were doing at the time. The problem is... she'd never expected to see him again after that night, much less have him and his wife move into the house next door. She didn't expect to see him working at the same precinct as she did. She wasn't prepared for any of this. Yet, here they were.

_**Waldorf Astoria  
>Room 1215<strong>_

She memorized the information before deleting the text, her decision weighing heavily on her mind. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she made a call.

"Hey baby, I'm making your favorite tonight. My world famous chili and cornbread," Paul answered with a smile in his voice.

The guilt weighed heavily on her. "I'm sorry, but it's going to be another late night. I'm up to my ears in paperwork and I have to meet with a C.I. on a cold case I've been working on. Save a bowl for me?" she asked, keeping her tone as light as possible.

"You know I'll keep it hot for you," he flirted.

She forced herself to laugh girlishly, but she really felt like shit. "Okay, but don't stay up. I'll see you later." She hung up before he could say anything else.

She could still change her mind. She could go home to her husband and have a homemade meal with her family. She could smile and pretend that everything was okay and that she was still happy in their marriage. She could make love to her husband tonight and try not to think about the man she _really_ wanted.

The man who could whisper in her ear something as simple as "Hello, Detective" like it was a secret between the two of them. The man with expressive blue eyes and an intense stare that easily turned her on. The smoldering stare so full of want that she always had to look away, and usually led her to taking impromptu cold showers in the ladies locker room of the precinct where she gave herself empty orgasms from touching herself, imagining her hands as his.

She could go home. She _should_ go home.

She walked out of the park and waited to hail a cab on the sidewalk, pacing back and forth. Once the taxi pulled over, she opened the door and settled in the back seat.

"Where to, ma'am?" asked the driver with a bit of impatience.

"Take me to Park Avenue, the Waldorf."


	2. Chapter 2

John took another sip of whiskey from the glass and continued to look out into the lobby, watching the guests come and go through the entrance of the hotel. He had what he considered the best seat in the house– the corner seat of the bar. From there, he could see her if she walked through those doors, and he'd know immediately if she'd said yes to his offer.

He reached into his pocket and fiddled with the card key to the hotel room he booked for the night. Joss hadn't sent a text back to him with a yes or no, but he hoped she'd said yes. He hoped she'd made the decision to be with him. He hoped that she'd decided to stop pretending that whatever had happened between them the first night they met was just a fluke. He hoped that she felt the same feelings about him as he had about her.

He wanted her to stop pretending that all they were now were just good friends who happened to meet each other under precarious circumstances...

* * *

><p><strong>Six months ago<strong>

John walked into the dim, smoky bar and took a seat in the booth in the back corner, giving him a view of everyone there. His assignment was to infiltrate the organization of corrupt cops known as HR under the guise of being a new detective of the 51st precinct vice squad. He was to find out who was clean and who wasn't, as well as discover the identity of the true leader of the group. The NYC branch of the FBI thought they'd caught everyone in their big crackdown against HR, which even included local politicians, but over the past year, HR had managed to come back stronger than ever.

In the briefing, he'd been given files on who had been arrested in the first sting and their connections with anyone that was still in the precinct. There were files on who currently worked there along with suspected members at other precincts. His new director, Nicholas Donnelly, had warned him that these people were extremely dangerous and very close knit. It would be hard to infiltrate this organization, so they had to be sure that he had the right background to cover his tracks. John was, for the moment, to settle into the city and continue to work on the case in the local office. After about a month or two of preparing for his assignment, they'd transition him in when the vacancy opened up after the captain retired.

John was anxious, more than anxious to be honest, to get started. He hadn't even found a place to live yet, had only been in the city for a couple days, and had just gone through his briefing this morning, but he couldn't help his need to get started on the case right away. Even if it was something as simple as watching a group of cops known for being dirty hang out at a small neighborhood bar. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here and if anyone remembered his face he might blow his cover, but this would be his first major assignment since his transfer from the Seattle office. He had been recommended after leading an investigation on a major drug bust for trafficking between the US and Canadian border. It had been an intricate case that revealed involvement from local and state police, who were getting paid to look the other way at times and at other times, were paid to enforce the laws of the streets instead of the laws on the books.

At first, John wasn't going to accept the offer of a promotion and a move across the country, but this was an opportunity he knew he couldn't pass up. After thinking on it for some time, he thought a change of scenery would do well for him and his wife, Jessica. With the new job offer came more money, a higher title, a bigger and more exciting city, and a chance to start over in a sense. Moving expenses were covered and it was his responsibility to find a place and get settled in before he started his assignment.

He'd gone house hunting with a realtor this afternoon, but he really hadn't been all that interested in anything she'd shown him. It would have been easier for him if Jessica had joined him. She was adamantly against this move and he couldn't help but think that her boss, Dr. Peter Arndt, had something to do with it. Just thinking about it brought a hard frown to his face.

Jessica had insisted that there was nothing going on between them, but he knew she was lying. He knew her ticks and knew when she was keeping a secret. She had kept him a secret for nearly six months, before she started telling everyone that they were a couple. And even then, she hadn't even told her mother about him, as if she were ashamed of him. She reassured him that wasn't the case, and that her mother wouldn't understand their relationship. She'd said that her mother would do everything she could to destroy what they had together.

He'd bought her story hook, line, and sinker; so in love with Jessica that he ignored all the blatant tells of her dishonesty.

He'd planned a weekend getaway with just the two of them in Mexico. A long weekend had turned into a week and on a whim, they'd gotten married in a little chapel on a Wednesday afternoon. The next day, everything had changed. He'd never forget the way he felt when Jessica had turned on the television and they both watched the Twin Towers burn for hours before both buildings collapsed.

It was right then and there that he'd made the decision to reenlist and serve his country again. Sometimes he wondered what kind of person he'd be today if he'd stuck to that decision, but Jessica had changed his mind. They were married now and she didn't want to lose him, she'd said. She wanted him at home with her, safe and raising their future kids, she'd said. So he'd decided to stay, but not without some resentment. They'd left the resort in Mexico and came back to Puyallup, Washington to make a small and quiet life for themselves.

He became a police officer and she worked at the local hospital as a registered nurse. They had been married for nearly a year before she finally told her mother about their relationship. He should have seen the red flags back then, but when you think you're in love, you don't always make the best choices. They'd tried to have children, but after two early-term miscarriages, Jessica didn't want to try anymore and had grown distant. After a while he had suggested adoption, but she had been against it. The more he tried to pull her back, the more it seemed as if she would push him away. He still loved her and made sure he told her and had shown her that daily, but it was like fighting a losing battle.

After six years of working as a police officer, John itched to do something more. He'd applied for a position at the FBI. After testing and more testing, a physical fitness test, a thorough background check that included polygraph testing, and a full medical examination, he'd been cleared and scheduled for special agent training at the academy in Quantico. He would be gone for nearly six months to complete his training before he'd become an official agent.

Jessica seemed to be happy for him and glad to see him follow his passion. In hindsight, it seemed as if she were pushing him out of the door. He should have known better then, but foolishly thought that things were getting back on track for them. At first, things were pretty hard. But with all the phone calls and text messages and video messaging that they'd done, it almost felt like how things were at beginning of their relationship. As the old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

John would discover upon his return that their marriage was completely off the rails. Nearly two weeks after he'd come back home, she had refused to let him touch her. He'd confronted Jessica about why she hadn't wanted to make love with him. They'd been separated for months and he'd missed her, why didn't she want to be with him? In tears, she'd confessed to him that she'd had an affair.

She told him that she'd ended it and that she loved him. He'd forgiven her, but she had lost his trust. John focused on his new career and their relationship was as strained as ever. The wakeup call came two years later when she'd asked for a divorce. He wasn't quite ready to call it quits so they'd decided to try to work things out. Shortly after that, he'd been offered the promotion to move to New York. It honestly couldn't have come at a better time for them.

John was pulled from his thoughts when a waitress came to his table to take his order. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind," she said with a knowing smile. He wasn't the first person to come to a bar to drown their sorrows and he wouldn't be the last. At least this one was easy on the eyes. "What can I get ya?"

"Beer," he answered.

"Any kind in particular?"

"Surprise me," he said with a smile, hoping she'd take the hint that he didn't want to be bothered at this time. She left right away to get his drink.

_Smart lady_, he thought.

John focused once again on the patrons of the bar, some of the faces he already knew from his briefing. Detectives Terney, Beecher, and Stills were yucking it up and looked to be several drinks in with a group of other detectives and officers that he couldn't place right now, but would know of very soon. He looked up to see a hefty, middle-aged man with curly brown hair walk inside the bar and look around as if he were expecting to see someone in particular. Stills, one of the more boisterous members the group, called out to him.

"Hey Lionel! Why don't you join us? Or are you too good to be seen with us anymore," Stills bellowed with a sneer.

Lionel frowned deeply at the belligerent man. "Stop busting my balls, will ya? I'm not putting up with your bullshit tonight." He walked over to the bar and took a seat, turning his back on the group and ignoring their taunts.

John hadn't seen this Lionel guy's face in the files, but if he was well-known by this group, John figured he should keep tabs on him also.

"Here's your beer, hon'," the waitress said as she placed the dark brown glass bottle on the table in front of him. "Just holler if you need anything else."

"Thanks," he looked at her name tag, "Holly." He handed her a couple bills to cover his tab and to include a generous tip before she made her way back to the bar.

John slowly drank his beer and continued to watch the interactions among the people in the bar. It was your typical neighborhood bar, with its fair share of regulars, women with heavy makeup and low cut shirts trying to catch a man's eye, and a few youngsters who were just barely old enough to drink. Overall, it was just another night. He'd finished his beer and was about to call it a night and head back to his hotel when he saw her walk in.

The woman was strikingly beautiful. Nothing she did could hide that. Not the frumpy suit or the low heels. Not the simple light makeup or the low ponytail that pulled the long ebony hair that grew past her shoulders away from her face. He didn't know what it was about her, but he was drawn to her, unable to take his eyes off of her.

John watched as she looked around the bar, her eyes scanning the place until she found who she was looking for. She walked directly to the bar and sat next to the man he only knew as Lionel, ignoring the catcalls and lewd comments from the group of cops behind them. He couldn't hear what was said, but the body language between the two of them spoke of a deep friendship. It looked like she was trying to get him away from the bar. He watched her toss a few bills onto the bar, pull on his arm, and drag him away, leading him towards the exit, taking on some of his weight as he stumbled out.

She was his partner.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day<strong>

That was the first night John ever saw Joss, but it wasn't the first time they'd met. He would later meet her on another night, and on that fateful night, things would never be the same. For either of them.

The shrill ring of his cellphone pulled John away from his walk down memory lane. He looked down at his phone to check the caller ID.

_HOME_

He diverted the call to voicemail, took another sip of the whiskey, and continued to watch the lobby for the woman who'd changed everything.

* * *

><p>AN: I know that the 51st precinct vice squad isn't where Carter and Fusco work, but as the story develops you'll see how John ends up in the same precinct as Carter and Fusco. Also, this story is unbeta'd so any mistakes/errors you see are mine.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way. Here goes…

* * *

><p>Joss huffed in frustration as she leaned forward to look out of the windshield of the taxi. They'd been sitting in bumper to bumper traffic for nearly fifteen minutes and had barely moved 20 feet. She glanced at the meter and rolled her eyes at the fee. She took another look out of the passenger side window and saw that they were about three blocks away from the hotel.<p>

"I'll walk the rest of the way." Pulling a few bills out of her purse, she paid her fare and got out of the car without another glance towards the cabbie.

She maneuvered around the cars in the street as she made her way to the sidewalk and headed north before rounding the corner to head east on 76th. The walkways were nearly deserted compared to how congested the streets were. Her stride was even and her pace was steady, the very opposite of her emotions at the moment. She still wasn't sure about this. She could still turn back and go home. To her husband. The man she vowed to love, honor, and cherish in front of God, their family, and friends.

With her mind elsewhere, she didn't see the man walking out of the building to her right, causing a minor collision. Startled, she nearly lost her balance, but caught her footing before she had a nasty tumble.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," the man apologized profusely, instinctively reaching for her, holding her by the arm as she steadied herself. "I was texting and didn't look to see where I was going. Are you okay?"

She gave a small smile to the stranger who reminded her so much of John. Tall, piercing eyes, and short salt and pepper hair, though there was more salt than pepper on this man.

"I'm fine," she replied before she stepped back, moving out of his reach. "Really. I wasn't paying much attention either."

He smiled warmly at her. "Well, maybe we'll both try to be a little more careful today," he said with a chuckle. "Sorry, again. Have a good one." He walked forward at the same time she did, both stopping their progress before another collision. "You first," he offered.

"Thanks." She looked up and noticed that he'd just walked out of The Surrey Hotel and she froze.

The man looked at her strangely, waiting for her to move. "Ma'am? Are you sure you're okay?"

Joss gave herself a mental shake before she nodded at the man. "Yeah. Sorry about that," she muttered as she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket and moved her feet, her pace so fast she was nearly running, continuing east.

* * *

><p><strong>Six months ago<strong>

Joss applied the finishing touches to her makeup before removing the large barrel rollers from her hair, fluffing the curls for a sultry and tousled style. Teasing her now grown-out bangs to fall over her eye, she went for a more dramatic, almost vamp look and hoped that Paul would notice and appreciate her efforts.

Joss had been a "Frugal McDougall" for the past six months, scrimping and saving, penny pinching and coupon clipping, stretching a dollar until she made it holler, so that she could afford not only their hotel room for the night, but also a new dress, shoes, clutch, and accessories. She stood from the vanity and turned to admire her reflection in the full length mirror.

Her skin seemed to glow underneath the coral slit-shoulder gown. Its form-fitting cut and ruching design displayed her curves tastefully. A split that began mid-thigh showed off a toned, shapely leg, her gams well-earned from her daily morning runs and the frequent use of the basement gym at her precinct. On her feet was a pair of aqua leather heeled sandals she'd snagged on sale on a whim at Neiman's. She paired her dress with coral, turquoise, and gold accessories and her coral clutch with a teal floral design pulled together and completed her look.

Smiling, she could barely contain her excitement about tonight. An old friend from law school had sent Joss and Paul an invitation to her vow renewal to her husband of fifteen years. It was to be a swanky affair, black tie, held on the rooftop garden of The Surrey Hotel in the Upper East Side. Looking at the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand, she realized that if they wanted to beat the traffic and get to the event on time, they needed to leave in the next twenty minutes.

"Where is he?" she asked aloud to no one in particular. Paul should have been home hours ago. He could primp in the mirror just as much, if not longer than she did. He'd barely have time to shave and shower at this point.

She grabbed her cell phone and called him again, for the fifth time in the last hour. Just like the previous four calls, it went straight to voicemail after the first ring. She released a long, weary sigh as negative feelings washed over her.

_Maybe his phone died_, the hopeful side of her suggested. He was supposed to stop by the barbershop for a quick haircut and pick up his tux. _Maybe he got stuck in traffic or maybe the train was delayed_, that same naive and hopeful side of her conscious offered.

However, the more jaded and cynical side of her knew better. _He always does this. He never does what he says he's going to do. He's completely selfish, has been for a while now. You know exactly where he is. You may as well leave now and prepare to show up to the ceremony alone._

Alone.

_You're used to it by now, aren't you?_ the inner cynic asked. _You work yourself to death to make sure the bills are paid because he blows his entire paycheck on booze and gambling. As a matter of fact, that's probably what he's doing right now and you know it_, the voice mocked her.

Shaking away the negative thoughts, Joss grabbed the small wheeled suitcase she'd packed with her clothes and his, and headed downstairs to wait in the living room. He'd promised that he'd do better and that he'd get the help he needed. She even went with him to the VA for a few sessions of group counseling, but his attendance at those meetings were inconsistent. Though it was wavering, teetering towards the abyss, she still had faith in him. She still held on to the tiniest bit of hope that he could get through his troubles and be the man she married nearly seventeen years ago.

Unfortunately, the little bit of faith she had in him, that tiny sliver of hope she had held on to all this time, vanished the minute Paul stumbled across the threshold of their home, reeking of booze.

Joss was thankful that their son, Taylor, had already left hours ago to go to his friend's house, where he would stay overnight. Taylor was fifteen years old and had only seen glimpses of the man stumbling before her. Thankfully, she had been able to keep most of his father's troubles from him, but children tend to see more and understand more than adults think they do. His words to her when he kissed her goodbye before he left echoed in her mind.

/

"You look great mom, even with the rollers," Taylor teased with a smile that was identical to his father's. "I just hope dad shows up tonight and appreciates it."

Her smile faltered. "Of course your father will be here. What are you talking about?"

Taylor gave her a knowing look, but said nothing else.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about that. He'll be here with his tux and we'll paint the town red."

"Okay…" he replied dryly, not buying it for one minute. "I just want you to know that I appreciate you and I love you. Have fun tonight, mom. In spite of him."

"Taylor..."

"Gotta run. See ya later." With another peck on the cheek, he made a quick exit, softly shutting the door behind him.

/

"Where have you been?" she asked Paul calmly.

He leaned against the door heavily so that it would hold him up. "Where do you think I've been?" he replied in anger.

"Where is your tux?" she calmly asked again, ignoring his tone, refusing to give in to the anger that was bubbling just underneath the surface.

"What tux?"

"For tonight. Don't you remember? My friend Donna and her husband Richard are renewing their vows. It's a black tie event. I saved money to get a room, get this dress, and pay for your tux." She felt her anger rising with every word. "All you had to do was pick it up, get a haircut, and show up."

He looked at her blankly and she sighed. "Apparently, you can't even do that," she muttered under her breath, but he'd heard her anyway.

Seconds after the muttered remark fell from her lips, he lashed out at her. "Don't you fucking give me this shit, Joss! Every time. Every fucking time I get back from having a good time, you do this shit!"

She lost it. "I _do this shit_ every fucking time because you come home drunk and broke. I fucking _do this shit_ every god damn time because you won't be a man and do what you say you're going to do! I'm tired of this, Paul," her voice began to waiver and she felt the tears burning the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"I feel like I'm in this marriage alone and every time you promise to do better, it'll last what? A week? Two weeks? A month tops!" She laughed bitterly.

"You don't know what I'm going through. You didn't see what I saw out there. I'm doing the best I can—"

"Your _best_ isn't ENOUGH!" she shouted over him.

He looked at her, hurt. She knew he was suffering from PTSD. She knew he was having a harder time dealing with things. But he wasn't doing anything about it other than putting the both of them through the motions.

"So... what then, Joss? What's next? I see you all dressed up." He looked her up and down before he chuckled. "Huh... What? You think you're gonna find yourself a man tonight? Gonna leave me for some rich lawyer motherfucker? Ain't nobody gonna want you. You're over 40, a fucking _cop_," he spat out as if it were the most vile thing about her, "and you got those fucked up scars. Who the fuck wants that? You think _that's_ enough?" He sneered at her, eyes glassy from inebriation.

Paul had lashed out at her before, said some hurtful things before, but it had never been as venomous as the words he spat back at her. She felt her heart breaking all over again and this time, the tears fell.

"You always knew how to hurt me," she replied quietly. She turned away from him to wipe her eyes, not caring her makeup was ruined, no longer wanting to even go out anymore.

"Joss..." he started, his voice now apologetic. "Baby, stop crying. I'm sorry baby, please stop crying." He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her and she stiffened. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it," he repeated over and over again.

He hugged her but she didn't hug him back, standing as still as a statue, not wanting him anywhere near her at the moment. Realizing she was no longer crying and refused to return his embrace, Paul released her.

"I fucked up. I know I fucked up."

Joss refrained from rolling her eyes. "You need to go upstairs and sleep it off. I'll make you a pot of coffee," she said dejectedly.

He softly kissed her on the forehead, apologized once more, and headed up the stairs. Joss was on autopilot now, very used to this same old song and dance. She walked to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

She sat there in a daze, their evening ruined. She worried the frayed corner of the placemat in front of her when Taylor's parting words came back to her.

_Have fun tonight, mom. In spite of him._

In spite of him.

In. Spite. Of. Him.

_From the mouths of babes_, she thought. She shook her head and chuckled, before it eventually turned into nearly hysterical laughter. _What is wrong with you, Joss? You are stronger than this_, she told herself.

She pushed herself up from the table and walked back into the living room. Looking at her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, she was thankful that her eye makeup was waterproof. Reaching for her clutch, she took out what she needed and began to refresh her makeup. Other than eyes that were a little puffy and slightly red from her earlier tears, she looked good. Tossing everything back in the clutch, she snapped it closed, pulled up the handle of the small black suitcase and walked out the door.

Tonight, she was going to enjoy herself. She'd worked too hard, done too much to save money, put up with too much bullshit to turn back now. She smiled as the cab she hailed, pulled up in front of her.

She would have fun tonight.

In spite of him.


End file.
